


Yours, If You Want

by Rubadubababyoil



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Early Queen (Band), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Insecure Freddie, M/M, Pre-Queen (Band), Roger Taylor (Queen) Is a Good Friend, pining Freddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubadubababyoil/pseuds/Rubadubababyoil
Summary: It's difficult for Freddie to ignore how much he's hung up over Brian when they share a bedroom in their flat. With his insecurity and heartache growing each day, Brian was bound to notice his change in mood sometime.
Relationships: Brian May/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 14
Kudos: 102





	Yours, If You Want

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place around 1970-1971, which is why it's tagged Pre-Queen and Early Queen, since they hadn't put out their first album yet.  
> It goes without saying, but this is just fiction! I don't think this happened in real life.

Freddie entered the flat with a huff, throwing off his jacket. He was in a terrible mood. Yet another relationship over, yet another man who turned out to be a total tart. Things were going well until the idiot asked, _“Wait, you’re actually serious about the singing thing?”_ Honestly, the nerve! Sure, Queen was still fresh and new, and they hadn’t put out their first album yet, but Freddie was absolutely sure that they would make it. The sky was the limit. He was a good singer, damn it, and Brian, Roger, and John were great musicians. They simply needed more time and opportunities! It wasn’t just some fantasy.

Needless to say, Freddie didn’t want to spend another minute around the man. He wouldn’t stand there and let himself be insulted.

He was curled up on the sofa, silently fuming and replaying the argument over and over in his head. Why couldn’t he find someone right? Why was every man he met a) an idiot b) controlling or c) straight? He sighed heavily. Of course, the last issue was the main obstacle in his love life right now. He knew the exact man he wanted, but he was definitely straight. He had seen Brian bring home girls enough to know that for a fact. God, did he hate when he saw some pretty thing clutching at Brian’s arm and giggling as they went to the bedroom. It was terrible, being the gay friend pining after a straight man, but at least no one knew about how pathetic he was.

Freddie tilted his head back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. If only he didn’t go and fall for Brian Bloody May. He tried to push his feelings away, but he spent so much time with Brian that it was practically impossible. They created music together and shared a bedroom, for god’s sake. It was hard to stop falling for someone when you saw them constantly. Freddie thought of the time he first saw Brian up on stage playing with Smile. He was instantly enchanted when he saw him, looking down at his guitar and biting his bottom lip as his long fingers played like he’d been doing it his whole life. Freddie was there to support Tim, but his eyes were on Brian almost the whole time.

His little crush from afar developed into genuine romantic feelings once they became friends and got closer. He admired Brian. He was a great songwriter and wonderful guitarist--Freddie’s very own Jimi Hendrix. He took Freddie’s vision for their band seriously. They would argue about songs sometimes, but it was part of the creative process. He could be stubborn, but Freddie wasn’t one to talk. Besides, he had a kind, considerate, sweet side that made him melt. Brian was fiercely intelligent, too, and Freddie found that incredibly sexy. Sometimes, he would talk about the thesis he was working on about zodiacal light, and although Freddie didn’t really understand it all, he would listen attentively. Brian’s voice would go soft and peaceful when he talked about space, his eyes lighting up like the stars he studied, and Freddie was a goner. It took everything in his power not to give a big, doofy smile like an idiot when Brian got happy about space. 

Sometimes, when it was late, Brian would lie on his bed with an acoustic guitar on his chest, strumming and composing casually in his head, and he would hum softly. Freddie was the lead singer of the band, but he loved Brian’s gentle singing voice. It made Freddie’s insides feel warm and gooey when he got to hear Brian humming, lost in thought and face serene.

Freddie found himself smiling as he thought of Brian, so snapped his mouth back into a frown. His thoughts circled back to Brian more often than he liked. He couldn’t help it, though, when the other men he encountered were so stupid. He had been hung up over him for a couple years now, and these feelings weren’t going away anytime soon, especially when they lived together (and _especially_ not when sadness and jealousy burned in his gut whenever he saw Brian with a woman…).

Speaking of the devil, Brian came home. He was earning some extra money by being a maths tutor. Brian liked maths, but he wasn’t a fan of teaching so much, and it was draining for him. He looked tired as he put down his bag and slid off his shoes. “Hello, Freddie,” he smiled.

Freddie was still in a terrible mood, especially because he’d spent the last fifteen minutes feeling hung up over Brian, so he just grumbled.

Brian frowned. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face.”

Another reason why Freddie was in love with him: Brian actually cared about him. Curse him for being a good friend. “That wanker, Robert,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Did you have an argument?”

“We’re _through,_ darling. He made an utter mockery of me and Queen. He had the audacity to ask if I’m serious about, and I quote, ‘the singing thing.’”

Brian grimaced. “Seriously?”

“Seriously! He thinks I’m delusional and wasting my time.”

“That bastard,” he said, getting angry on his behalf. “Who says that to someone? He never even heard us play! Or heard you sing, for that matter. Who’s he to judge?”

“Exactly. Now, he couldn’t pay me to sing for him.” He reconsidered. “Well, we need the money, but I would charge a high price!”

“And what’s he do for a living, if he’s got everything figured out?” Brian asked.

“He’s a business major,” he rolled his eyes. “I’d much rather prance around on stage than sit at a desk all day with a briefcase.”

“You definitely don’t belong sitting in a desk all day. Don’t even worry about him. You’re a natural on stage.”

Freddie felt a little pleased. “I’m a star, darling. The world just needs time to agree with me.”

Brian chuckled. “We’ll need to actually put out an album for that to happen.”

“We will soon enough!”

“I know. But, about Robert? You’re better off without him,” he said. 

Something about that statement coming from the man he was pining after made a twinge twist in Freddie’s chest. “Yes, I know,” he said. 

Brian yawned, tired from a day of tutoring. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Freddie.”

The twinge in his chest grew more painful. “You’re telling me.”

Brian stretched his arms over his head, and his sweater rode up his abdomen a little, revealing a sliver of pale skin and the smallest indication of light, brown hair trailing down his navel.

Freddie’s eyes lingered, but then he realized what he was doing and averted his gaze before he got caught. He wished he could take off Brian’s shirt and trail kisses down his chest and stomach, only stopping once he got below the belt. He halted this train of thought. He suddenly felt the need to be alone. Freddie got up from the sofa. “That bastard gave me a headache. I’m going to lie down.”

“Aren’t you supposed to take over at the stall later?”

Freddie groaned. He really did not feel like lugging his arse all the way to Kensington Market today. “I’ll owe Roger a round of drinks,” he dismissed.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “All right, but you know he’s going to be pissed.”

“I can handle him.” Freddie didn’t like neglecting his responsibilities to the stall, but he wanted to curl up and nurse his wounded heart. He went into the room he shared with Brian, because of course he shared it with him--of course he was tortured nightly by the sight of Brian looking sweet and sleepy in his pajamas with his mane of curls bouncy after a shower. Freddie laid down on his bed and whined into his pillow. He was less upset about breaking up with this man in particular than he was about the fact that he couldn’t find a good relationship in general. Even when he was with men who weren’t abysmal, he couldn’t help but think about how he’d rather be with Brian instead. Freddie’s heart was set on him, which meant he would never be happy. 

What a terrible day.

* * *

“You bastard!”

Freddie lifted his head and squinted his eyes against the light that had just been turned on.

Roger was standing in the middle of the small bedroom with a thunderous glare. “I had to close the stall myself! Where were you?”

Freddie sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Sorry, Rog. I had a dreadful day and I couldn’t bring myself to leave this room,” he said, rubbing one of his eyes with his knuckle.

Roger didn’t look impressed. “You still need to help out, Freddie. We need the money.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I won’t do it again. I didn’t even intend on falling asleep.” He felt groggy, but the melancholy from earlier was unchanged.

Roger sighed, shaking his head. His blonde hair was a little damp, like he’d been caught in the rain. Freddie did feel a little badly. “Well, go on, then,” Roger said. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”

 _I think I’m in love with our guitarist, actually._ “Did Brian not fill you in on the details?”

“Brian? No, he was on his way out when I came in.”

Freddie looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was getting late, and Brian seemed tired when he got home. “Where’s he going?”

“He’s got a date tonight with that girl, Cheryl.”

Freddie’s stomach dropped. “Oh.” He swallowed. “Right.” He didn’t think Brian was seeing her anymore. She was petite with red hair and green eyes, and her giggle was high-pitched and annoyed Freddie to no end. She was everything he wasn’t: conventionally attractive, female, and a perfectly normal person. Freddie was a man, eccentric (to put it lightly), a bit bratty, and he had big, hideous teeth that made him look like a donkey whenever he smiled. He was called Bucky in boarding school. He was never able to forget that. He had an ugly smile and painted his nails and wore leotards on stage. Even if Brian did like men, why would he ever choose Freddie?

What a shitty way to end the day. This meant Brian would come home tomorrow in the same clothes he wore earlier with a satisfied, cheeky grin on his face. Freddie despised his post-sex look, because he wasn’t the one causing it. Even worse was having to be in this bedroom alone at night, with the empty bed across the room serving as a reminder that Brian was out and being touched by someone else, and without the sound of his soft snoring there to lull Freddie to sleep.

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Yeah...you okay?”

Freddie blinked. “Ah, well. No, not really.” He told the story about Robert and his idiocy, excluding his heartache over Brian, of course.

Roger grew more sympathetic. “What a moron,” he said. “You’re better off without him.”

“That’s what Brian said,” he muttered.

“All right, I’ll forgive you for ditching the stall this _one_ time because that arse insulted the band and your singing.”

He smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

Roger reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey we can start. It’ll get your mind off earlier, and I need to get drunk after dealing with the public all day..”

Drinking sounded like a great idea, in fact, and Roger was always fun to goof around with. “Oh yes, please.”

But the problem was that alcohol let his guard down a little too much.

They were drunk now in Roger’s room, lying on the floor, with their backs against his bed. They actually started drinking on the bed, talking about what an idiot that git Robert was and how they would prove him wrong with Queen’s success one day, but Freddie couldn’t remember how they ended up on the floor. It didn’t matter. He was pretty comfortable. They were listening to The Beatles and had started to talk about music, but then that turned into a conversation about The Beatles, themselves, and then Freddie said he would never fuck any of them.

“Such terrible hair,” he whined. “It’s a look, but it’s not sexy. It’s like a schoolboy haircut.”

Roger was cackling. “You’re really tellin’ me you would turn down Paul McCartney?”

“Yes!” Freddie waved his arms in the air, giggling. “He can’t have a piece of me.”

“No wonder you’re single,” Roger said after taking another swig from his glass. “You’re too picky!” 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said.

“But you’re right about that bloke from today, though. What was his name?”

“Who cares?” Freddie rolled his eyes, his good mood receding a little at the mention of his pathetic love life. “McCartney wouldn’t laugh that I want to sing,” he said, staring at the wall. He felt fuzzy. His drunken mind thought about meeting The Beatles and he smiled. Maybe one day, once Queen was famous.

“Nope,” Roger said. “He wouldn’t. But ya still won’t bone any of ‘em, eh?”

“No,” Freddie laughed a little. “None of them are my type.”

“What is your type, anyway?”

Freddie took another sip. “Well not big-titted blondes like you like, Rog.”

“Obviously not,” he snorted. “Big-muscled blondes, then?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I like tall men.” _Like Brian._ Brian was more handsome than any of The Beatles. He probably had a bigger cock, too. It was probably long and perfect for sucking. Freddie blinked, catching up with his line of thought. God, he was drunk.

“Should I not be talkin’ about men?” Roger squinted. “You know, ‘cause of your breakup?”

“No, it’s okay,” Freddie said. He did feel a little better than earlier. That would probably wear off once he was sober, but he might as well enjoy it now. “I’ve just got rotten luck with men.”

“We’ve all got rotten luck,” Roger said. “Except John. He’s with that girl Veronica again this weekend.”

“He seems to really like her,” Freddie said, smiling. He liked the way John smiled brightly when he talked about Veronica. They had only gone on a few dates, but they appeared to get along quite well so far, and Freddie hoped that things worked out between them. It would be nice if John had someone else to look out for him. “Lucky bitch,” Freddie said fondly.

“And now Brian’s out there getting lucky,” Roger said in exasperation, “and here we are listening to music on the floor.”

Freddie couldn’t hold back a flinch. Somehow, the whiskey made him forget about Brian’s date. Not anymore. Now he was thinking about Brian bollocks-deep inside of that girl. Freddie shuddered in disgust. He tried not to think of Brian with other people, but he was too drunk to stop his mind from going there in a fit of jealousy. He was probably kissing her and whispering something dirty in her ear…

“He’s probably fucking her and shouting her name right now,” Freddie said under his breath bitterly. “Or his cock is in her mouth.”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “Ugh, don’t make me think of him like that,” he said in disgust.

“Can’t help it.” The words slipped out before his mind could catch up.

Roger stared at him blearily, the wheels turning in his drunken brain. “What?”

Freddie swallowed the rest of the whiskey down. “Nothing,” he said.

“No, hang on,” Roger sat up straight, although he stumbled a little. He balanced himself by planting a hand on the floor. “What’d you say?”

The blood drained from his face. He shouldn’t have started drinking heavily when he was so upset about Brian earlier. It was a bad idea. He had been hung up over Brian and went drinking with Roger before, though, so he didn’t think anything of it. His feelings for Brian had only gotten stronger over time, though. Freddie knew Roger completely accepted his sexuality, but admitting he had feelings for their mutual friend and flatmate was a different matter. Freddie felt panic start to cut through the inebriation clouding his brain. He had to get out of this conversation. No one could know about how he felt. His stupid heart could make things uncomfortable and ruin the band.

He was starting to feel sick. “Just too much whiskey, darling.”

Roger was staring at him blankly. “You think about Brian fucking after you drink too much whiskey?” he asked, deadpan.

Freddie would have laughed if the whiskey wasn’t sloshing around in his stomach from nerves. “No! Don’t be absurd.” He scooted away from him and began rummaging through the pile of records on the floor. He felt Roger’s eyes on the back of his head as he put on _Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band._ “Be a dear and pour me more whiskey,” he mumbled.

Roger did what he was told, but was still eyeing him.

Freddie averted his gaze, heart pounding.

Then, Roger, perhaps sensing how terribly uncomfortable he was, had mercy on him. “So, uh, how’s ‘Liar’ coming along?”

Freddie could have fully collapsed onto the floor from relief. “It’s coming along well, actually.”

* * *

The next morning, Freddie felt like he got hit by a bus. By the time he went to bed, he was drunk enough to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow, so he wasn’t bothered by the emptiness of the room, at least. Today, he was hungover and sitting at the small kitchen table, nibbling on a piece of toast to avoid upsetting his stomach. He should have eaten more yesterday, but he’d felt too depressed. 

Roger was hungover, too. “Maybe a bottle of whiskey’s too much for just two people,” he said, groggy and sitting across from him at the table with his head in his hand.

“Maybe,” Freddie agreed, although they would probably do that again one day.

Just then, there was the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Freddie closed his eyes briefly. Great. Brian was back. He was so not in the mood for this. He opened his eyes when footsteps approached the kitchen.

“Hello,” Brian came in with a smile, and it was _the_ smile, the I-got-laid-last-night smile.

Freddie wanted to gag.

“Morning,” Roger said, but kept his head in his hand.

“You two all right?” Brian asked.

“We drank that bottle of whiskey I had in my room last night,” Roger said. 

“Ah,” Brian gave a sympathetic grin. “Got it.” He walked over to the refrigerator and frowned at how little food was inside. “You feeling better today, Freddie?” he asked.

“Fine,” he lied. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Brian settled on yogurt and grabbed a spoon. “Because of that idiot yesterday.”

Freddie simultaneously loved and hated how considerate Brian was. “I’m over him,” he said. _He’s eating breakfast here? That girl didn’t even feed him,_ he thought bitterly.

“Oh, he told me about that,” Roger said. “He’ll prove him wrong one day, right, Fred?”

“Certainly,” he said. He didn’t feel like talking much. He couldn’t stand the lingering trace of sex in Brian’s eyes.

But Roger was looking at Freddie when he asked, “Good date with Cheryl?”

Brian shrugged as he ate the yogurt. “Can’t complain,” he winked.

Freddie didn’t say anything, his insides burning with acid. He looked down at the table, not being able to stand his bloody post-coital look anymore, or the obvious rumple in his clothes from wearing them two days in a row.

Brian was oblivious. “I’ve got to get changed and run. More tutoring to do.”

“Earn the big bucks for us,” Roger joked.

“Yeah, right,” Brian replied.

And Roger waited until the second the front door shut when Brian left again to look Freddie right in the eye. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Freddie’s eyes widened. “Of course we are.” Where did that question come from? He lifted his piece of toast to take another bite.

Roger nodded, face impassive. “Right. So. When were you gonna tell me you fancy Brian?”

Freddie dropped his toast onto the plate. “I do not!” he denied.

Roger stared at him.

Freddie was feeling sick again, his palms suddenly clammy. “What would give you a _ridiculous_ idea like that?”

“When I tell you about the girls I date, you want all the details.” His tone was casual, very matter-of-fact. ”When it’s Brian, you can’t even look at him when he talks about girls.”

“I…” His pulse was beating hard in his neck. “I don’t…”

“This isn’t new, either,” Roger went on. “You’ve been weird about this for awhile but it’s only gotten worse. I’d suspected, but then you thought about Brian during a shag last night and, uh, that confirmed it.”

Freddie had hoped Roger was drunk enough to forget about that, but apparently not. “I was just drunk,” he blurted out.

“You’re more honest when you’re drunk,” Roger shot back.

Freddie didn’t have a response. His cheeks stung with the heat of humiliation. Was this it? Did he ruin everything again, like when he was caught with a boy in boarding school and forced to go back home? There was a knot in his gut. 

Roger’s face softened. “Fred, why didn’t you say anything? I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“You’re not?” he asked hesitantly.

“Hell no,” he said emphatically, and then furrowed his brow. “Did you think I’d be an arse about this? Go and shout it from the rooftops?”

Freddie hated talking about the ghosts of the past, but he said, “I’ve had some bad experiences in my life.”

It was a vague statement, but Roger seemed to get it. He was always smarter than people gave him credit for. “But you’re my mate. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Some of the tension released in his chest. “Oh.”

Roger shook his head. “God, what kind of wankers were you around before you met us?”

“The bad kind,” Freddie said, looking down at the table. _The kind that called me Bucky and laughed when they found out I liked boys._ But none of the band ever mocked his appearance or judged his sexuality. They laughed _with_ him, not at him, and tried to make him feel better when men were unkind to him. Perhaps he’d been paranoid.

“Well, look,” Roger said, putting his elbows on the table. “This’ll be between us.”

“Deacy doesn’t know?”

“The only person living in his own world more than Brian is John.”

Freddie snorted. “You’re right.” He sighed, feeling less nervous. He looked up. “Thanks, Rog.”

“Don’t mention it,” he dismissed. “Now.” He scrunched up his face. “Why Brian May? Out of all people?”

His befuddlement made Freddie laugh. 

“No, I’m serious!” Roger said. “He’s all...skinny and nerdy. He’s my friend but, if I were gay, he’d never be my first pick.”

Freddie was laughing harder now. His hand flew up to cover his mouth instinctively. It actually felt good to have someone to talk to about his feelings now. He should have told Roger earlier. “Oh, darling, I needed that laugh. Thank you.”

Roger smiled. “But I wanna know. I’m curious.”

Freddie bit his lip. He didn’t want to completely gush over Brian, but… “I think he’s handsome. Don’t make that face! He’s lovely. The hair, darling. It’s ridiculous but delightful.”

Roger smirked. “You’ll judge The Beatles’ hair, but not Brian’s? He’s a poodle.”

Freddie giggled. “An adorable poodle.” He looked down at his hands, feeling shy talking about his feelings this openly, and about someone they both lived with. In some ways, he was a private person. “He’s kind. He’s so intelligent, too. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about half the time with space, but he gets so excited when he goes on about it and it’s nice to watch. He’s passionate about his studies and music, and he...he gets this enthusiastic look in his eye when he talks about stars and his guitar. I like listening to him talk. He has a way of captivating an audience, I think. I remember thinking that about him when I saw him in Smile.” He stopped. He looked up again. “Not that you’re not great as well, Roger.”

But Roger didn’t look put off at all. He had a funny look on his face, like he was trying to look displeased but was actually holding back a smile. “Oh, god, you _really_ like him.”

“Roger!” Freddie scolded, putting his face in his hands. Joking about fucking was one thing, but discussing his romantic side made him shy.

“I just can’t believe you’re like this over _him._ Wow.”

Freddie lowered his hands. “Well, believe me, I didn’t intend for this to happen.” _He’s simply irresistible._ Okay, he should keep that to himself.

Roger’s expression grew a little serious. “I know. But...don’t hold yourself back because of him. I mean, there are other blokes out there.”

Freddie frowned. The subtext was clear: _He’s straight. Don’t waste your time._ “I know,” he said quietly. He shouldn’t have felt disheartened, but he did.

“I’m just saying. Don’t stop getting laid over _Brian._ He’s so not worth it.”

Freddie smiled hollowly. So much for feeling better about things. He knew Roger was trying to be a good friend and help, but he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He stood up. “I’m going to get ready to head to the stall. Don’t you have class?” Maybe some fresh air would do him good. He wanted to get his mind off Brian. For once, he actually looked forward to going to his art class this evening to spend time away from the flat.

Roger frowned at the abrupt end to the conversation. “Yeah, in a couple hours. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes, see you.”

* * *

A couple of weeks passed. Roger and Freddie didn’t talk about the situation again, but Roger would shoot a sympathetic glance his way whenever Brian talked about going on a date.

“How’s Cheryl?” John asked, completely unaware.

“Good,” Brian smiled. “She’s a nice girl. She likes animals, too, so that’s a plus.”

“We could get a cat,” Freddie grumbled without thinking.

But Brian just said, “We can hardly afford to feed ourselves, let alone an animal.”

That was true. “When I’m rich, I’ll own a mansion full of cats,” Freddie said.

Brian laughed. “Sounds great.”

Last week, Freddie came home late from working the stall. His feet were tired from standing all day, his eyelids were heavy from a boring lecture in the morning, and he really wanted to take a shower and crawl into bed.

But as he walked to the bedroom, Roger spoke up. “Ah—maybe wait a little.”

Freddie turned to him, confused. “Wait to go into my own room? I want to take a shower. Unless you want me to exit the loo wet and naked, darling,” he smirked.

Roger shifted his eyes over to John, who was reading a book on the sofa. He looked like he was hesitating to say something.

Freddie’s smirk fell away. “What?”

Then, he heard a high-pitched, feminine moan.

The blood in his veins turned into ice. 

Roger winced.

“Ew, they could keep it down, eh?” John said casually, not looking up.

 _She_ was here. Brian was fucking her in their own flat—in their own room! Freddie would have to smell the scent of their sex when he tried to go to bed! At least he had the decency to fuck his dates outside of their shared flat. A part of him was angry and wanted to go shout at them to stop, but he mainly felt like shattered glass. How on earth was he supposed to not feel incredibly upset by this? He was in love with a man who was fucking a woman--in his bedroom.

“Come on,” Roger grabbed him by the arm. “You can borrow some of my pajamas for tonight.”

Freddie couldn’t speak, because he was certain he couldn’t keep his voice steady.

Roger shut the door behind him once they were alone and away from John. He went over to his dresser and grabbed an old T-shirt and sweatpants. “It’ll have to do, yeah?”

Freddie nodded mutely, his stomach cramping. He took the clothes.

Roger frowned, and looked down at the carpet. “Sorry, mate. I tried to talk him out of it, but they’re drunk. He said they’d be quiet, but.”

Freddie shook his head, throat feeling too tight to speak, and he opened the door and went into the loo. He locked the door behind him and grabbed onto the sink, breathing heavily through his nose. He avoided his reflection as he got undressed, knowing he must have looked terrible right now. He cried silently into his hands while he was in the shower, hating himself and his stupid heart. At least the sound of the spray of water drowned out any sounds coming from the room.

Freddie stayed in the shower until the water ran cold and he emerged from the loo wearing Roger’s clothes. He spent the night on the couch, although he hardly slept. He refused to talk to Brian the next day. Roger explained to him that Freddie was angry that he was kicked out of his room for the night, and Brian only sheepishly shrugged. Everyone forgot about the incident by the following day.

Well, except for Freddie. The passing of days did not impact how much he thought of that dreadful night.

He tried not to let the situation get to him, but he was starting to feel depressed and lonely. John and Veronica were doing well, too. He was happy for them, but couldn’t help but feel like he had a future of solitude ahead of him. Sometimes, privately, he thought how much easier things would be if he liked girls...

He was thinking of all of this during the evening. Freddie had been idly drawing in his sketchbook. It started as something coherent, but now the page was full of dark shadows surrounded by a figure on his knees with his face in his hands.

 _Rather obvious even for me,_ Freddie thought and closed the book. He looked over to the empty bed. Brian was supposed to come home from class soon.

Roger and John poked their heads into the room.

“Hey, we’re heading out now,” Roger said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” John asked.

Normally, Freddie loved a night out of drinking with the boys, but he was tired from his classes and the weight that refused to leave his chest. He would only hold them back like a wet blanket. That was no fun. Besides, he really didn’t want to get drunk and accidentally reveal how much he cared for Brian in front of John. The fewer people who knew about this, the better. “No, I have assignments to do,” he lied.

John shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

“Squeeze some titties for me,” Freddie called after them when they left the room. Knowing he wasn’t going to get any work done tonight, he put his art supplies away and laid down on the bed, turning over on his side. He felt ridiculous, lying here while his friends were going out to get drunk and (probably) fucked. And it was all over an unattainable man, who shagged a girl in this very room just recently. Roger told him not to hold himself back over Brian, but here he was.

Freddie laid there, gloomy and lethargic but unable to sleep. He was lying on the mattress with the blankets pulled down to the end of the bed, too lazy to bring them up. He didn’t even feel like composing. He wondered if he would stop being in love with Brian after they all got rich and inevitably moved out and away from each other. He didn’t know if he looked forward to that or not.

Freddie kept his eyes closed when he heard Brian come home and move about the flat. He wanted to be left alone.

Footsteps entered the room, and then stopped. A pause. “Freddie?” Brian whispered.

Freddie didn’t answer. Footsteps approached the bed. Then, the blankets were being pulled up to his shoulder. It was unexpected, so much so that Freddie opened his eyes and turned his head.

Brian froze. “Oh. Awake, then?”

Freddie couldn’t stop a bemused grin. “Are you tucking me in, Mother Hen?”

Brian let go of the blankets with a snort, but he looked a little embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping. Why are you home and not out with Roger and John?”

“I didn’t feel like going out.”

Brian turned on the lamp on his bedside table. It was dark out now, and the soft light from the lamp cast shadows on the walls. “Really?” he asked skeptically. “You love getting into trouble with Rog.”

Freddie shrugged under the blankets. “Not tonight.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No, not at all. Don’t worry.”

Brian sat on his bed on the other side of the room. He was wearing another soft university sweater and jeans, his hair messy after being out all day. Freddie hated when he wore sweaters, because he sat and wondered how it would feel to rest his cheek against the soft material stretched across his chest. Brian was staring at Freddie. “When’s the last time you went out?”

The stare was unsettling. He thought of rolling over and making his back face Brian. “I can’t recall the exact day.”

He blinked slowly, reminiscent of a cat. “I know we don’t, you know, talk about this stuff,” Brian started haltingly. “But can we? Can we talk?”

“About what?”

“You haven’t been right lately.”

Freddie sat up, anxiety trickling into his chest. “What do you mean?”

Brian folded his hands together in front of him. “You don’t go out much anymore aside from class and the stall, which isn’t like you. You’ve been a little quiet lately, actually.” He looked upset, his brow pinched. “You’re quiet around _me._ Have I done something wrong?”

 _Aside from shagging Cheryl in our bedroom?_ He couldn’t say that. Damn. Freddie felt guilty. “No!” he rushed to say. “No, of course not.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “It’s just us. You can tell me.”

 _I can’t._ Oh, how Freddie’s heart ached at how Brian was trying to be a good friend. He had to think of something to say. “I suppose...I’ve been rather down...about that breakup.” That was believable, right?

Brian didn’t look entirely convinced. “He was an idiot, sure, but that was weeks ago and you weren’t with him long. You get over men a lot quicker.”

Damn Brian for knowing him so well. “It’s not _him,_ but...being single in general.” Okay, that was at least partially true. 

Brian’s hazel eyes softened. “Oh, I see.”

And for some reason, that frustrated Freddie. When he got into black moods like this, anger was always close by. “No, you don’t,” he said.

“What?”

Freddie rubbed his eyes roughly. He felt so exhausted lately, so close to cracking and everything spilling out of him. “You have a girlfriend. You don’t know how I feel.”

“But you can find a boyfriend,” he said patiently.

“I won't, not ever,” he said. He had a tendency to be dramatic when he was upset.

“Come on, now,” he chided. “You’ve been in relationships before.”

“None of them were successful.”

“But you’re only 26. Most people haven’t found their soulmate or what have you by now. It’s not a big deal.”

 _But I think I have found him,_ he thought wretchedly. “26 is _ancient,_ dear. I feel as if I’m running out of time.”

“Freddie,” Brian sighed, “that’s not true. Don’t give up. You’ll find a good bloke one day.”

“What man worth anything will want me?” Freddie asked, hand over his eyes.

“Well, who wouldn’t?” he asked, much quieter now. 

And Freddie’s lip twitched in annoyance, at the utter ignorance Brian was in about his problem. During his rational moments, Freddie knew his feelings were not Brian’s fault nor his responsibility, but this was not one of those times. He was feeling down and just a bit bratty. “Who would want a buck-toothed poof who’s never been in a serious relationship by his late 20s?” he spat.

Brian’s jaw dropped. “Freddie, don’t say that about yourself! You’re not those things, and just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t.”

Every word made him feel worse. His smile was hollow as he shook his head. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not completely lacking in self-awareness, darling. I know what I look like. I know I don’t act normal.” He was confident on stage, when he adopted another persona, but when the applause from the audiences at Imperial College was gone and he was alone with his thoughts, he didn’t always like who he was. Freddie stared down at his painted nails. “I put people off,” he finished, the fire extinguished from his voice. His shoulders slumped. He’d said too much. There he was again, letting his stupid heart take over.

“You’re Freddie,” Brian said gently. “You’re probably the most memorable person I’ve ever met.”

Freddie’s eyes fluttered shut and he hunched his shoulders. “Don’t.”

“I mean it,” he insisted. “Since when have you cared about normal? You’re eccentric, yeah. But you’re never boring, ever. You’ve got funny, wicked ways about you that make you a blast to be around. You’re talented; I can’t play the piano like you can, and you’re a great songwriter. Your voice…It’s raw talent that you’ve got, yeah, but you work hard, too. You’ve got a vision and you’re determined to make it reality. That’s admirable,” Brian said, voice delicate and warm. “If it weren’t for you, Rog and I would’ve quit after Smile.”

Freddie opened his eyes, a funny feeling in his chest. “You’re...you’re serious?”

Brian’s gaze was locked on his. “Absolutely.” He looked distressed, his mouth pulled in a thin line. “I never knew you thought so little about yourself.”

Freddie shrugged. He sighed and ran a hand through his long, black hair. He had so many emotions crashing through him right now that he felt winded. “I don’t always. I have bad days sometimes.”

“We all do,” he said sympathetically. “I only wish you’d talked to someone sooner about this. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Freddie shrugged again. He nearly felt dizzy from the compliments. “I would have if I’d known you’d shower me with praise,” he joked, but his voice was a little scratchy. He cleared his throat.

Brian looked down at the floor. “I can tell you more.”

“What?”

His eyes were downcast and his voice lowered to a rumbling murmur. “There’s a lot good about you, Freddie. Maybe I really don’t tell you enough. Most of all, you’re kind. You look out for all of us. We can argue, but I know you’ve got my back at the end of the day. And Roger and John’s. You’re caring, and shy, and...” He trailed off. He swallowed audibly, looking hesitant. “And anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Freddie gaped at him. A blush was crawling up his neck, and god, when was the last time someone made him blush not because of dirty talk, but from praises of his personality? He felt...valued. Cherished. And...he was only in love with Brian even more. 

There it was again: the only man who ever made him feel this way was Brian. Straight, dating-a-girl Brian.

There was a lump in his throat. He looked down, feeling vulnerable. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You had a long day and probably weren’t in the mood for this.”

“And there’s that kindness again,” Brian said fondly. “What are friends for? You’d do the same for me.”

Freddie kept his gaze down. He didn’t know if he felt pleased from the compliments, or upset that Brian did really like him, but only as a friend. “I would,” he agreed. His heart beat heavily in his chest. He tried to lighten the mood. “All of that is fine and good, but you didn’t deny my being buck-toothed,” he teased, and put on a closed-lipped grin.

But Brian didn’t smile back. In fact, he started to fiddle with his hands and he kept staring down at the floor between them. “You’ve got a lovely smile,” he murmured.

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Now I _know_ you’re lying, Brian.”

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “It’s...I mean, you should stop putting your hand over your mouth when you smile.” The low lamplight made it difficult to tell, but it looked like a trace of pink was blooming on Brian’s cheeks. “I like when you, erm, when you don’t hide.”

Freddie blinked. “I’ve...I’ve always done that. Ever since boarding school.”

Brian bit his lower lip. “I know it’s a habit, but I’d like to see your smile more. It’s contagious. Um, and, it’s not like the others will mind,” he hastened to say. “None of us will make fun of you. Just, you can be you around us.”

Freddie never had anyone compliment his smile, ever. Men told him they found other parts of his body and face attractive and politely didn’t mention his mouth. He didn’t know what to do with this. He felt like he was blushing, but being praised for something that everyone else always mocked made him strangely feel close to tears. It was time to end this conversation.

“Let’s forget about it,” Freddie said. “You must be tired, darling. Let’s just turn in for the night.”

His gaze flickered up. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well...okay. I’m gonna go shower now.”

Freddie felt certain that he saw a blush on Brian’s face as he got up and left the room, but he questioned himself. Why would Brian be blushing? It didn’t make sense.

While Brian was gone, Freddie got his pillow and held it to his face, allowing hot tears to slip from his eyes. He should have been happy to hear that Brian thought so highly of him, but if only those praises came from someone who loved him back. Freddie yearned to hear kind words whispered in his ear in between kisses. He sort of felt worse now than he did earlier.

Freddie sighed wearily and put the pillow down. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and got up to change into his pajamas. 

Brian came back into the room as Freddie pulled a shirt over his head, toweling off his thick hair.

They smiled at each other, a little shyly, a little acknowledgment that the conversation they had was more serious than they were used to having.

“Thank you, again,” he whispered.

Brian looked down at him, throwing the towel over his shoulder. His hair looked like dandelion fluff. Then, without a word, he pulled Freddie into his arms.

The scent of Brian’s shampoo filled his nostrils, and Freddie held back a little gasp. Their friend group was maybe a little more touch-friendly than most, but they were still British men. They never shared a full-on hug before. Freddie hugged him back, his heart pounding hard. He felt small in Brian’s arms, their height difference obvious now, and he resisted the urge to hold onto him tightly and hide his face in his thin chest. They pulled back after a moment that probably lasted shorter in reality than how it felt in Freddie’s head.

“Talk to me any time,” Brian said in a hushed tone.

 _I can’t. You’ll hate me if you know the truth._ Freddie nodded, his eyes on his chest.

They got into their beds. Freddie burrowed into the covers and rolled over, facing away from him.

“Goodnight, Freddie,” Brian said. It might have been Freddie’s imagination, but he sounded sad.

“Goodnight, Brian.”

Freddie laid there for over an hour, listening to the rhythm of Brian’s quiet snoring, and his chest hurt from the contrasting storm of emotions in his body.

* * *

Over the next two days, Brian was reserved and spent more time at university than usual, and it was scaring the shit out of Freddie, honestly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Freddie asked John when Brian left the flat for school without a word, a brooding look on his face.

“No clue,” John said.

Freddie worried that Brian was actually uncomfortable with their conversation from the other night after all, and in turn, didn’t want to be around him. While he and Roger were alone at their stall, he broached the subject.

“Roger, Brian hasn’t said anything about me, has he?”

Roger cocked his head to the side. “You mean something bad? No. Why?”

“He’s been rather in his head the past couple of days, hasn’t he?”

“I guess, but he’s always sitting there thinking about his thesis or long guitar solos to shove into our songs.”

Freddie snorted. “So you don’t think he’s acting strange?”

“Not really. You worry too much.”

Maybe he was being paranoid. He decided to stop thinking about Brian for once and focus on the stall, and his artwork when they got home. He sat on his bed and was sketching out a logo for a fake product as an assignment for one of his classes. He was going to be finished with school after this semester and he was glad. He enjoyed designing, but his calling was definitely music. He was so absorbed with his work that he didn’t even notice when Brian came into their room until he coughed on the other side of the room.

Freddie jumped. “Oh, Brian! Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry,” he said. “How long have you been working?”

Freddie blinked, and realized the room was darker than when he’d started. “Too long,” he said, and closed his sketchbook. He stretched, groaning at the ache in his neck. “Can’t we be famous rock stars already so I can never do homework again?”

“I wish.”

He turned on the lamp. “Don’t act like you don’t love studying your zodiacal light, Bri.”

He grinned. “You caught me. Anyway, I was just wondering…” He lifted his hand to reveal two nail polish bottles, one white and one black. “I can redo your nails, but maybe, um, you could do mine?”

Freddie beamed. “Oh of _course,_ darling! Finally,” he jumped off the bed, “you’re letting me doll you up.”

“I might as well try being glam,” he said and sat on his bed. He patted a spot beside him.

Freddie climbed onto the bed and knelt on the mattress, too excited to think about how he was never on Brian’s bed before, or to realize how wide his smile was. “Let me do yours first!”

Brian chuckled softly. “All right,” he held out his hand.

Freddie unscrewed the cap on the white bottle and took Brian’s long, pale hand in his. “You’ll wear white, and I’ll wear black. It can be a rivalry,” he said excitedly. “Our fans can wear one color or the other to show their support.” He smiled up at him wickedly. “It’ll be the battle of the nail polish!”

Brian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice. “Oh god, I’ve created a monster.”

“Too late to back out now,” he said triumphantly. He began painting the nail on his forefinger white. He loved dressing up. He wanted to make a real impression on stage, and had been trying to convince the others to join him. He rambled on happily about the plans he was now creating in his head to tell their audiences about the nail polish, and to get Brian to try on some new clothes. Freddie was painting the last nail when he realized he had done all the talking. He looked up. “All right, Brian?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, looking at ease. “I just like listening to you talk.”

Freddie’s smile faltered a little. That was unexpected. “Oh. Well. Your nails are finished.”

Brian looked down at his fingers. “Looks good. When will they dry?”

“In a few minutes.”

“Can I still do yours while mine dry?”

“Sure.” Freddie held out his left hand. He only painted that one because he was right-handed, but he kind of liked how it looked for only one hand to have the polish. 

Brian’s hand was warm as it held his, and he concentrated to put on the black polish precisely without painting his skin.

Freddie snorted. “You’re looking at my fingers as if they’re a maths problem.”

“I’m better at maths than this,” Brian muttered. It took him longer than it should have because of how carefully he painted the nails, but Freddie thought it was endearing.

When Brian was finished, he screwed the lid back on the bottle, but he took Freddie’s hand again and blew air on the nails, trying to make them dry faster.

Freddie was by no means a blushing virgin, but for some reason, the sensation of Brian gently blowing air onto his skin made him freeze and his breath hitch.

Brian looked up at him from under his lashes, his hazel eyes catching in the lamplight. His gaze was intense. “Freddie?”

He swallowed. “Brian?” What was happening? Why was the mood suddenly so serious?

Brian looked down at his hand, then up at him, and down again. He brought his hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his skin.

It took a lot to shock Freddie, but Brian did it. A simple kiss to the top of his hand left him speechless. He stared at him with wide, confused eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

Brian lifted his head and bit his lip, apprehension in his gaze. “Was that okay?” he asked in a small voice.

Freddie nodded mutely, his heart in his throat.

Brian leaned forward and captured his mouth in a slow kiss. His lips were soft and slightly damp from biting them.

Freddie was dumbfounded, but he kissed back, and the ache that had been gnawing at his chest caused him to breathe harshly through his nose and cup Brian’s jaw. He must have been obvious with his feelings despite his best efforts, but it was okay because _Brian kissed him._ Brian initiated it all. He wanted Freddie. He was still stunned, but the misery he’d been carrying around started to fade.

Brian pulled back. He shut his eyes, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, Fred,” he whispered. “I just can’t hold it back anymore.”

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re sorry?” he asked. “What for?”

He opened his eyes. “We’re friends and I just made it weird between us. But the way you talked about yourself the other day—I want to…” He took a steadying breath, his face turning red. “I want you to know I care about you a lot. A lot, a lot. You have no reason to be so down on yourself. You’re beautiful, your smile included, and anyone is lucky to have you in their life. Me included.”

Freddie felt like he was melting from hearing Brian call him _beautiful_ in that quiet voice of his. He blurted out, “You mean you’re not straight?”

A flicker of a smile. “No.”

“What about Cheryl?”

“She’s nice, but she’s not you. It’s an easy choice.”

Freddie had been so convinced that he would never compare to a woman in Brian’s eyes that the remark made him surge forward and kiss him hard. Brian kissed back, his hands coming up to grasp Freddie’s shoulders. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, parting his lips. Freddie shivered and parted his lips, too, feeling warm all over. He couldn’t believe how soft Brian’s lips were. He couldn’t help but press into them further, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. Their small bedroom was filled with the wet sounds from their kissing. Their lips glided together smoothly. It was difficult to tell how long they sat there, snogging and getting used to the feel of the other’s mouth. Brian sucked his bottom lip and Freddie moaned. He felt himself being carefully pushed down by the shoulders on the bed, all while his lips tingled where Brian sucked and nipped lightly. He soothed the sting of the bite on Freddie’s bottom lip with a sweep of the tip of his tongue.

Freddie moaned again, wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck. _Bloody good kisser,_ he thought. His hips shifted as Brian licked into his mouth, his tongue hot and wet. Their tongues met and Freddie groaned. Their bodies moved instinctively, and they began to rut their hips against each other. Freddie sucked on Brian’s tongue when he felt a bulge brush against him. He felt Brian moan into his mouth, but Freddie realized they were getting a little loud. They didn’t live here alone.

“Bri,” he said against his lips. “Brian?”

Brian pulled back and looked down at him. His thick curls were falling over his forehead and he had a hazy look in his eye that made Freddie get harder in his trousers. “What?” Brian asked, his lips moist and swollen from kissing.

“The others,” he looked towards the door. “What if they hear us?” He knew they would have Roger’s support, and though he doubted John would have a problem with it, he didn’t know if Brian wanted anyone to know about this.

Brian had a crooked grin on his face. “I told them to leave the flat for a couple of hours because I wanted to have a word with you.”

“About this?” Freddie gasped.

“Yeah.”

“What did they say?”

“John was surprised, but Roger didn’t seem to be,” he said in confusion. “He just sort of shrugged and wished me luck.”

He imagined what Roger must have been thinking when Brian told him that, knowing how Freddie felt. “I told Roger how I feel about you weeks ago.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Hang on. You _didn’t know_ how I felt?” he asked incredulously.

“No!” he said. “I just went out on a limb and hoped for the best! You mean we could have done this weeks ago?”

“More than that,” he admitted. “Brian, are you really so oblivious? I’ve been hung up on you for quite some time.”

Brian sat back on his heels, bewildered. “Really?” he asked after a moment.

Freddie sat up. “Yes!” he said. “I thought you were acting strange the past couple days, but I thought it was because you felt uncomfortable around me from the conversation we had!”

“No, it was because I was going through a bloody crisis because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how upset you were!” he said. 

“I’ve been upset lately over _you,_ Brian,” Freddie pointed a finger in exasperation. God, he really could be caught up in his own head a lot of the time. For a genius, he could be so thick.

They stared at each other.

Brian shook his head and put his head in his hands. “God, we’re stupid.”

Freddie threw his hands in the air. “How was I supposed to know about this? You shagged a girl in this bed a few weeks ago!”

Brian looked up at him, his face falling. “Oh...oh, Fred, did I upset you?”

Freddie lowered his hands, feeling exposed. He swallowed. “What do you think?”

Brian frowned deeply, looking guilty. “I’m sorry.”

The annoyance seeped out of him. “You didn’t know,” he said.

“No, I really didn’t, and...that...That _bastard,_ Roger! He could’ve told me how you felt, but instead he let me go and be terrified before I came in here!”

Freddie giggled. “Were you truly nervous, darling?”

“Course I was,” he grumbled.

Freddie couldn’t help but laugh more. Roger really was a bastard, but being a good friend to Freddie, too. “Roger promised he wouldn’t tell anyone how I felt. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Hmph,” Brian huffed. “Well. In any case.” He stared at him for a long moment. He lifted his hand and grasped his chin. “I’m sorry you were upset over me,” he murmured, and ran the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip.

Freddie’s lips parted, heat trailing down his abdomen. He had imagined that Brian would be a good lover, and he had a feeling he was about to be proven right.

“Can I make it up to you?” Brian asked.

His heart fluttered, more of the weight he’d been carrying around lifted from his shoulders. He held Brian’s wrist and sucked his thumb into his mouth, maintaining eye contact, and he could have sworn that he saw Brian’s pupils dilate. He took his thumb out of his mouth. “Just get back to kissing me, dear.”

Brian grinned. “Do I get to see your naughty side now?”

Freddie laid back down on the mattress and held out his arms. “You will if you stop talking.”

Brian leaned over him and they were kissing again, in the same position they were in before. Their hands explored as they shared deep kisses, and Freddie absolutely had to get handfuls of those luscious curls. Freddie felt like he was in heaven; he was being kissed into the mattress by the man who’d captured his heart, and the heat of arousal was blooming below the belt. He wanted Brian to take him. Sure, he’d imagined shagging Brian plenty of times, but Freddie still felt a little insecure, like he would change his mind and leave, and he wanted Brian to make love to him. He licked against Brian’s tongue and ran his hands down his thin torso, and then tugged at his shirt.

That flipped a switch in Brian, who then kissed Freddie harder and started to remove both of their clothes. It was a flurry of movement, and a couple of times they bumped noses or their teeth clacked together and they let out little huffy laughs in between the space of their lips. Then, they were naked, and Brian was kissing Freddie’s neck and running a hand over his chest. 

His hand was warm and his fingers were calloused from playing guitar, making Freddie shiver. “I’m afraid you won’t find tits,” he said, trying to joke, but also feeling insecure again.

Brian chuckled low and deep into his neck. He squeezed Freddie’s peck. “You sure?”

“Hey!” Freddie swatted his hand away.

Brian lifted his head, a cheeky grin on his face.

Now that the kissing had paused for a moment, Freddie looked down at Brian’s pale, slender body. His chest was relatively hairless, a contrast to Freddie’s body, until his happy trail led to a mess of dark hair. Freddie felt himself get harder when he saw Brian’s cock, which was as long as he imagined.

“Nice cock,” he breathed.

Brian bit his bottom lip, still grinning. “Yeah?” he said, voice turning husky.

God, Freddie was getting even more turned on by Brian’s dirty side. He wanted to do everything at once: suck his cock, get his cock sucked, eat him out, be eaten out, be on top, be on the bottom—all of his sexual fantasies were crashing down on him and he didn’t know where to start.

But Brian took the lead. He went back to kissing his neck and running his hand over his body. “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured into Freddie’s skin, his thumb rubbing over his nipple. “I’ve wanted you in this bed for so long.”

Freddie squirmed his hips, tilting his head to give Brian better access to his neck. _Of course he likes dirty talk,_ he thought. “How long?” he asked.

Brian was placing hot, open-mouthed kisses onto his neck. “Dunno exactly,” he breathed. He sucked the sensitive skin as he played with his nipple. “At least since we moved in. I can’t get you off my mind.” He rotated his thumb over it until it was a hard nub, and then he leaned down to grind their hips together.

Freddie was fully hard and moaning. He thrust his hips up, and they both groaned at the skin-to-skin contact. Heat was swirling in his groin, and his nipple tingled from Brian’s hand. Then, Brian wet his thumb with his tongue and rubbed Freddie’s other nipple.

“Mmmf!” he bit his lip. He was loving the attention, and how it felt like Brian was touching him everywhere. He never wanted this to stop, never wanted anyone else to be the center of Brian’s attention. Freddie was rutting against him, and he was starting to leak from the tip of his cock.

Brian trailed kisses up his neck. “What about you?”

Freddie’s mind was sluggish. “What?”

“How long have you wanted this?”

He buried his hands into the curls, holding Brian’s head closer so he could keep kissing his neck. His mind went back to the first time he laid eyes on him on stage, thin and meticulous in his playing and his curls slightly shorter and more tame. “Since Smile,” he confessed.

Brian paused. They shared a meaningful look, Brian’s facial expression turning tender. He placed a deep, deliberate kiss on his lips, and then moved to his ear. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered into his ear with hot, damp breath. “Want it like this?”

Freddie shook his head. “I want—I want you to fuck me.”

Brian shivered and looked at him directly. His hazel eyes were dark and his pupils were blown wide with arousal. He licked his lips. “You sure?”

Freddie cupped his cheek and kissed him. “I’ve done this before. I’m sure.”

“All right. Got lube?”

“Of course! What do you take me for?”

A minute later, Brian was working a slender finger inside of him.

Freddie had his face turned on the pillow, his eyes shut. It had been a little while since he’d done this, admittedly, thanks to his feeling sorry for himself. It didn’t hurt, but it took some getting used to. Still, pleasure was already building inside of him, which only increased when another finger was slowly eased inside of him. He curled his toes, a low whine in his chest. It was good, and he realized he was biting his lower lip, and that revealed his teeth. He put a hand over his mouth.

But Brian used his free hand to take Freddie’s hand away. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered.

Freddie turned his face to the other side, whining again out of arousal, but a little bit of self-consciousness, too.

Brian laced their fingers together and held Freddie’s hand down on the mattress. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often. “It’s just me, baby. You can relax around me.”

Freddie pressed his lips together, suddenly feeling like he was going to cry at the pet name and the gentleness of his voice. “Bri,” he whispered shakily.

He kissed his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m not hurting you?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m ready for more.”

It wasn’t long before Brian was thrusting three fingers inside of him while kissing the side of his face, and then Freddie yelped when they brushed his prostate.

Brian pulled out his fingers. “What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” Freddie finally looked at him, and through the daze of his arousal, he saw how terrified Brian looked. “Brian, you just hit my prostate.”

He blinked. “I what?”

Freddie managed a smirk, despite being covered in sweat and aching to be filled again. “Do you not know the wonders your prostate can do, dearie?”

Brian, already flushed from arousal, blushed deeper. “It’s not like I’ve done anything with a man before,” he said defensively.

Freddie took pity on him. “I’ll have to show you next time,” he purred. “Oooh, that’ll be fun.”

“ _Next_ time. So, it’s, that was good, then?”

 _“Very._ I’m ready. Get inside me.”

Brian nodded. He grabbed an extra pillow that had fallen onto the floor and placed it under Freddie’s hips. He knelt back down on the mattress and squirted lube onto his palm, and then smoothed it onto his cock, his eyelashes fluttering.

Freddie thought that he couldn’t wait until he could jerk Brian off next time, but for now, he wrapped his legs around his waist. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Bossy.” Brian lined himself up and nudged his tip against him. “How are you so flexible?” he asked, holding Freddie’s hands and putting them down on the mattress.

Freddie squeezed his hands. “Years of practice,” he said with a smile, and he felt weirdly anxious. This was far from his first time, but it was his first time with _Brian,_ so it was indescribably different. He watched, transfixed, as Brian’s eyes rolled back as he pushed into him, his jaw dropping open. He moaned, and the lamplight highlighted the sheen of sweat on his chest.

Freddie gasped, feeling the friction against his inner walls. Brian had prepared him well, and he squeezed his hands harder. _“Oh,”_ he panted. “Oh, god.”

Brian was looking down at him with hunger in his eyes. He rocked his hips. “Look at you.” He started to move in earnest, pulling back and sliding back in. “Christ, Freddie, you look amazing.”

Each word of praise made his heart swell. Waves of pleasure shot through his body as Brian set a rhythm, thrusting steadily and deeply. Freddie didn’t want to take his eyes off him, but it felt so bloody good, and he felt his eyes slipping closed. He felt so alive.

“Ah!” Freddie moaned when he started thrusting harder. He opened his eyes.

Brian was breathing heavily out of his open mouth. “Keep looking at me, Fred. I want to see those beautiful eyes.”

Freddie writhed beneath him and whimpered, fighting the urge to hide his face. He had gone a little soft while being fingered, but he was fully hard and leaking again, precome dripping onto his stomach. He couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped his lips with each thrust, and he only felt more aroused, if that were possible, when Brian’s heavy breaths turned into low grunts. Just seeing Brian like this was enough to make Freddie lose his mind, but he was also being shagged into the mattress and knew he wouldn’t last long. 

“Brian,” he groaned, trying to move his hips to meet his thrusts. Each drag of his cock against his inner walls chipped away at his self-control. _“Fuck,_ harder.”

Brian complied, snapping his hips harder. “You feel so good,” he told him. “So good for me, Freddie.”

 _I want to be good for you,_ he thought, and had to bite his lip to prevent himself from saying. It was dawning on him how much of an impact having sex with a true friend had on him; this wasn’t just some good-looking acquaintance, or casual friend; this was one of his best friends making him feel good. Attraction aside, he truly loved Brian as a person, and the more he understood the weight of this night, the closer he felt to tears. “Don’t date girls anymore,” he pleaded, his emotions raw and close to the surface. He was getting close. “Please.”

Brian planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry,” he told him. “God, I want you.” 

Freddie scrambled and took his hands away to grasp at Brian’s shoulders for more support, his fingernails digging into his skin, feeling overwhelmed. “Bri,” he whimpered. “Bri, please, I need you,” his voice broke. He felt like he was getting lost in ecstasy. 

Hands free, Brian brushed damp, black bangs away from his forehead. “Shhh,” he breathed. “I’ve got you.”

Freddie cried out, almost feeling high from the way Brian was making love to him, and hid his face in his pale shoulder. 

Brian grasped Freddie’s erection and squeezed. He began stroking in time with his thrusts, which were quickening, and pushing Freddie’s body up on the bed each time.

Freddie threw his head back with a shout, feeling heat gathering in his bollocks. “Fuck! Brian, _ahhh,_ Bri, please,” he babbled. 

His low groans were turning higher in pitch, almost like whines. _“_ You’re so sexy like this,” Brian said to him. “I wanna hear you. I want all of you, baby.” His brow furrowed in pleasure. “I—” His mouth dropped into an O-shape, and then his eyelids fluttered shut. He gasped loudly. He leaned down quickly to muffle his loud moan in between Freddie’s neck and shoulder, his hips moving erratically as he came.

Freddie felt the hot, wet pulses from his cock inside of him, and then he was coming with a shout to the ceiling. Pleasure burst from his bollocks and shot up his cock. He spurted all over their abdomens, and they rode out the shockwaves together until Brian collapsed on top of him, shuddering and sweaty. Freddie was blissed out. He panted and his arms fell from Brian’s shoulders to fall like limp noodles against the mattress. He felt worn out, but in the best way possible. He would remember this night for a long time, but Brian brushing his hair away with a shush and saying _I’ve got you_ in that tender, sexy voice was definitely going to frequent his wank fantasy for a long time. His body shook from the force of his orgasm, and his limbs felt like jelly.

Brian pulled out of him and sat up. “You okay?”

Freddie was still trembling a little, but he nodded. “Better than okay,” he said tiredly, voice hoarse from shouting. He cracked open an eye and saw Brian reach down to grab a discarded sock to wipe them off. “That sock’s ruined.” He rolled over onto his side with a yawn. His eyelids were heavy.

Brian smiled lazily. “Worth it.” He threw it back on the floor once he was done and laid down behind Freddie. He wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed the back of his neck. 

Freddie yawned again, having trouble keeping his eyes open. Was it really that long since the last time he got a good, thorough shag that he was this tired? He opened his eyes. He glanced down and saw Brian’s white fingernails.

“Did you really seduce me with nail polish?”

Brian laughed lightly. “No, I did want to try the polish out, but I thought it was a way to spend time with you.”

“Smart,” he said. He hummed sleepily when Brian started to run his hand up and down his chest soothingly. He felt like a large cat. 

“I knew you’d be excited to do my nails, too,” Brian murmured. “You’re cute when you’re excited.”

Freddie whined, half-embarrassed and half-gleeful. 

“I’ll break up with Cheryl the next time I see her,” Brian promised.

Freddie’s lips twitched upwards and he hummed. He hadn’t realized his eyes had closed again until they flew open, startled when he felt the sheet being pulled over them.

“Go to sleep,” Brian whispered.

But he wanted to stay awake because he hated the thought of this night ending.

“’M not tired,” Freddie mumbled.

A soft chuckle. “Sure.” He stopped caressing him and hugged him close to his chest. 

Freddie could feel his heartbeat against his back, and it was surprisingly soothing. “Just resting my eyes,” he mumbled some more. “Only for a moment.”

A smile could be heard in Brian’s voice. “Right. Of course.”

Freddie nuzzled his face into the soft pillow, feeling limp against the mattress. He was going to open his eyes in a minute. He wasn’t going to be the first one to fall asleep.

But before he could think of how ridiculous it would be to fall asleep immediately after sex, he was out like a light.

* * *

The sound of quiet voices nagged at Freddie’s consciousness. He frowned, head fuzzy and limbs heavy like molasses. He was on his back now, and he turned his face away from the noise, trying to go back to sleep. But curls tickled his mouth and nose, leading him to frown deeper and sniffle.

“Shh! You’re going to wake them!”

Freddie blinked open his eyes and discovered a few things: 1.) Brian was snoring into his neck and had his arm thrown across his chest 2.) the light of the morning was now shining into the bedroom 3.) Roger and John were standing beside the bed, and 4.) Roger had Brian’s camera in his hands.

Fully alert, Freddie glared at them. “Don’t you dare!” he scolded them in an angry whisper. 

“I told you that you were being too loud,” John rolled his eyes.

Roger lowered the camera. “Sorry, but I can’t believe you two finally stopped moping around each other and shagged!”

Freddie hid his burning face in his hands. “Roger!”

Brian, who was an incredibly deep sleeper, snorted and buried his face into Freddie’s neck more, mumbling incoherently.

Freddie’s cheeks stung with mortification when he heard Roger and John snicker. “Oh, leave him alone,” he lowered his hands with a glower. “Out, you two.”

“Can’t I snap one photo?” Roger asked.

“No!” 

Brian whined and rolled over, his back facing them, still dead to the world.

“Erm. Are those fingernail marks?” John asked, squinting at Brian’s back.

“Do I need to flash you for you to leave?” Freddie snapped.

Roger and John held up their hands and left the room without another word, shutting the door behind them. 

The click of the door finally woke Brian. “Whuh?” he turned his head, eyes barely open. “Whuz happenin’?”

Freddie adored how cute Brian was when he was half-asleep, and now he could actually cuddle him when he was like this. “Nothing, darling,” Freddie told him. He caressed the messy curls away from his forehead, his heart warming when Brian’s eyes closed. “Go back to sleep. It’s early.”

Brian never needed to be told to go back to sleep twice, so he rolled back over and stilled.

Freddie carefully got out of bed. He put on a pair of underwear and threw a robe over himself. He needed to have a word with Roger and John. He knew it would be difficult since they lived together, but Freddie did feel quite private about his relationships sometimes, but especially this one, because he felt so deeply for Brian.

He left the room and stomped into the kitchen, shooting daggers at Roger and John, who were sitting at the table. “You bastards.”

Roger looked apologetic. “Listen, I just thought a photo would be funny.”

“And he took me along for the ride,” John said casually.

“Like you didn’t think it’d be funny.”

“I did,” he admitted easily. 

“Brian will kill you if you take a photo of him sleeping and you know it,” Freddie said.

“Fine,” Roger sighed. “No blackmail-worthy shots to hold over his head. You win.”

“Anyway,” John looked at Freddie, “why didn’t you tell me about this? I had to hear you liked Brian from Roger last night, after we left.”

Freddie felt a little less irritated now. “Sorry, Deacy, I wanted as few people to know as possible. I didn’t intend to leave you out. The only reason why I told Roger was because he asked me directly.”

John shook his head. “Just, why Brian?”

“I said the same thing!” Roger laughed.

“Oh, you two!” Freddie rolled his eyes. He had the feeling they were going to be like two pesky little brothers now. “You act as if he’s horrible.”

“No, it’s not that, I just don’t understand,” John said.

“It’s early and I was rudely awakened,” Freddie said dramatically. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you why I’m in love with Brian.”

Both of them raised their eyebrows.

“Uhh, you didn’t tell me that part,” Roger said.

Oops. “Don’t tell him!” Freddie pointed a finger.

“I won’t, I won’t!” he insisted. “I didn’t tell Brian anything last night when he came to us, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Freddie conceded. 

“In love with Brian May.” John whistled. “Wow. You’re full of surprises, Freddie.”

Freddie was starting to feel exasperated. He wanted to go back to bed. “What did he say to you two, anyway?”

“He got very serious,” John said. “I think he was afraid we’d have a bad reaction, which of course we wouldn’t. But he told us he had feelings for you and wanted to be alone with you in the flat to tell you. After we left, Roger told me you felt the same way, so we decided to stay out long to give you space.”

“And it turns out we were right to figure your night would end with a shag,” Roger smirked.

Freddie bit back his grin. “Well. Look, we’ll try not to do anything with you two in the flat.” He loved joking about sex with the boys, but having his lovemaking with Brian heard was a different story.

“And you two better not let this ever interfere with the band,” Roger said.

“Of course not!” Freddie put his hand on his chest. “Queen is everything to us all.”

Roger nodded. “Okay, good.” 

John smiled a little. “I know we’re messing around, but we really are happy for you.”

Freddie smiled widely. His two closest friends supported his relationship. Today was a good day. “Thank you.”

After using the loo to brush his teeth, Freddie went back to the bedroom. He shut the door quietly, took off his robe, and then gazed fondly over at the bed.

Brian was still fast asleep, mouth open against the pillow and snoring again. Freddie climbed back into bed, his heart full. He had a feeling there were many mornings to come of him having to awaken a sleepy, grumpy Brian. Not today, though. He laid down on his side and delicately caressed his soft cheek. Brian didn’t stir. Freddie moved curls away from his forehead and placed a small kiss to his skin. He pulled back and began carding a hand through Brian’s wild bed head, not to wake him, but just because he felt like he was going to burst with fondness. He didn’t think he could be this happy. He knew that he and Brian would have fights in the future, especially about music, but they were entitled to a honeymoon phase, right? There was no reason to ruin this moment. Besides, the romantic side of him said it would all work out in the end.

Eventually, the corner of Brian’s mouth twitched and his lips snapped shut. He took a deep breath through his nose and opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times and looked content. “Morning, Freddie,” he said, voice low and scratchy from sleep.

“Good morning, darling.” His face hurt from smiling.

Brian rolled onto his back, half-asleep. “What time is it?”

He looked at the clock on his bedside table. “Almost nine.”

Brian pouted. “Too early.” He reached up and tugged Freddie down onto his chest.

Freddie giggled as he was manhandled. He rested his head on his chest and curled his hand over his steady heartbeat. “We’ll need to get up sometime.”

“Not now,” Brian complained. “You’re warm,” he mumbled. He wrapped his arms around Freddie and nuzzled his nose into his hair, exhaling deeply.

Freddie wiggled happily in his embrace, letting himself relax into the sheets. “Roger and John know about us,” he said, leaving out that they were in this room earlier.

Brian held him closer. “We’ll deal with ‘em later. I want you all to myself more.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said, closing his eyes. He wasn’t tired anymore, but was perfectly willing to lie here in Brian’s embrace. 

“We should convince Rog and John to leave tonight,” Brian said.

Freddie giggled. “They _do_ live here, Brian. They’ll be quite cross if we kick them out every time one of us wants a blow job.”

“But we’ve got to make up for lost time,” he protested.

Freddie pressed a kiss to his chest. “You know I love a good shag as much as you do, but we’ll work it out later. We have all the time in the world...right?”

Brian huffed a tiny laugh and squeezed his arm around his shoulders. “Yeah, we do, Freddie. We do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this 13,000-word maycury/frian ramble came from. I hope this was coherent!


End file.
